


An Unexpected Encounter

by Kazaha_87



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blood and Gore, M/M, Madness, Vulgar Language, a Shinigami one-shot, flirting in front of gore, hatred against women and prostitutes, mad grins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazaha_87/pseuds/Kazaha_87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a rainy winter night, right after the last collection of his daily shift, an unexpected onlooker interrupts Grell's "breather" and "spoils his fun"...</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [Un Incontro Inaspettato](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6237169) by [Kazaha_87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazaha_87/pseuds/Kazaha_87)



True to form for Mortal London, it was starting to pour for the _third_ time since they started their shift, and this time the rain was heavier and surely peskier than before, in the growing piercing cold of a night in the middle of December.

“AARGH! I hate it when my make-up runs down and my hair get stuck to my forehead for what’s not blood or sweat after a heavy session between the sheets, or a nice fight with my Sebas-chan!”, the Red Shinigami complained while he tried – in vain – to shield himself from the rain with his Death Scythe shaped as a chainsaw, raised over his head.

His young trainee, who was paired with him and who was starting to grow impatient, as always happened when their shift was almost over and just a few souls were left to collect for the day, obviously wasn’t paying attention to the ravings of his vain tutor.

“Senpai! It’s the last soul of our shift and it doesn’t seem anything too fiddly… could you cover for me, please?”, the young shinigami pleaded with his colleague, “I have a date, and I don’t want to be late… you understand, don’t you?”, he winked at the flamboyant man beside him, who heaved an exasperated sigh in response.

“You should start to delay them of half an hour _after_ the end of your shifts instead of setting them up _at_ the end of them.”, Grell rebuked him. “It’s not very nice to keep a lady waiting! You should know better! Didn’t I teach you anything all these years?!”

“That’s why I’m asking you to cover for me! I know it’s not nice! …please! I promise that’ll be the last time!”, the youngster insisted.

“You say it all the time, Ronnie! If my Will finds out about it, you won’t be the only one who’ll be rebuked and disciplined. I’d like to remind you that I’ve been berated twice this year because of your behavior and slackness, and that the last time we _both_ were put to collect children _only_ , and for _a full month_. I don’t want to go for seconds, thank you!”

“Pretty please, Senpai!”, he begged at him without shame, and he knew that Grell had a soft spot for him and his doe eyes: he always had. “It’s just a quarter of hour before the end of our shift! Please please please, Senpai!”

And, as expected, Grell gave in.

After all, unlike him, Ronald had better things to do after that than he had… if only the weather had held a little more, he had actually thought about going to see his Sebas-chan for a little flirting and fighting, but looking like that, with his make-up and hairdo all messed up, there was not a chance in the world that he would have shown up at Phantomhive Manor! …so, he might as well have gone back home and taken a long hot bath… alone, as always…

“All right…”, he sighed, “but it’ll be _the_ _last_ time. Be aware, I’m not kidding, Ronnie. Next time I’ll report of your behavior during work to Will without a second thought. That’s a promise.”

“Thanks thanks thanks!! Honest!”, the young trainee widely smiled at him and Grell didn’t have the chance to give him a last warning that Ronald had already opened a portal and had vanished from his sight.

Then Grell sighed for the umpteenth time and checked the hour.

Thirteen minutes to the last collection: it was a frigging prostitute.

Cause of death: fatal loss of blood.

Evidently someone had grown a grudge against that dirty whore…

Grell just hated women to the core, and bawds most of all.

He had been Jack The Ripper for a reason, after all!

Also, it had been a few weeks that he was particularly intolerant to the world in general, and that bloody rain just didn’t help at all…

He sighed.

…maybe he shouldn’t have let Ronald go…

Or maybe, on second thought, it was for the best: actually, this way he could cut loose against the fucking cow without witnesses, and with no risk for him of Will coming to know about it…

He grinned madly at the fleeting thought, but then his mind wandered to Madam Red – _his_ Madam Red – and a soft whine freed from his throat before he could control himself.

It was on nights like that one, with an assignment like that one, that he recalled of that ephemeral love of – already – three years before then and, as every fucking time, with those memories, it came back full force his grudge against the snotty Phantomhive kid.

That damn brat didn’t only monopolize his Sebas-chan, but he also robbed him of the only creature in all his long life who seemed to share his thoughts and feelings, of the only _woman_ who, instead of his contempt, had earned his love and had loved him back.

And yet, when she had to choose between him – who gave her everything, who broke _all_ Shinigami’s laws for her sake, for her love – and the brat, she chose the brat.

Why everybody doted on that bloody spoiled squirt _really_ was beyond his comprehension!

Meanwhile, in the alley under him, the harlot finally showed herself in the company of a cloaked man.

Then, some moments later, a knife swiftly appeared between them, and, only an instant later, it just vanished in the womb of that bitch, splitting her in half.

When the hooded man disappeared through the dark maze of streets, Grell jumped off the roof.

He switched on his chainsaw and stabbed the woman, freeing her Records.

“Well well well!”, he commented at what he saw, dramatically as much as disdainfully. “It seems that you deserved it, my dear!”

Her Records showed that, after she discovered that she was pregnant, the dirty bawd had the sick idea of trying to blackmail her richest client, passing the creature growing in her womb off as his bastard child…

“That’s why I can’t stand women!”, he went on with his lecture to the dying cow, a wide and feral grin drawn on his face that showed his pointy teeth in all his fierce disdain for her.

Then, when the Record reached the end, spitting on a side in a very much unladylike gesture while impressing the “Complete” stamp on her file, he abruptly and unmercifully thrust his free hand in the deep mortal cut into the whore’s womb, ravaging inside her with macabre and perverse pleasure until he found what he was looking for.

“Now, woman. Look!”, he yelled at the already dead body at his feet. “This poor creature will _never_ be born because of you and your foolishness!”, he hissed with scorn and hatred while he waved the fetus in the already dead strumpet’s face, the small deformed creature still connected to her by the umbilical cord.

But that no more living scum of a woman, luckily for her, never saw it.

Shouting his hatred and his reproach, Grell switched on his Death Scythe again and, working himself into a frenzy, he impaled the whore with all his might and strength where he already ravaged with his gloved hand only a few moments before.

But it wasn’t enough to satiate his bloodlust, so he hit the corpse at his feet again and again until the victim was unidentifiable and he was covered in blood from head to toe whilst the rain washed away what remained of the red stream flowing inside of her.

Strangely enough, despite the woman’s agonizing shrieks of a few minutes before and his own's yells, still no one had passed by the black alley to check it. By the way, even if it was the case, a normal passerby would have only seen a woman on the ground and her corpse tore to shreds by an unknown force… which would have frightened any poor wretch out of their wits and made them run for the hills!

Then, abruptly, the sound of a guffaw made Grell stop, his chainsaw still roaring in midair.

He slowly lowered his armed arm and turned. The shadow of the grin splitting his face in half was still lingering there, but his eyes were already a perfect mirror of his annoyance: he just hated to be interrupted the most.

“You spoiled my fun, you old fogey. Happy, now?!”, he rebuked, but this made the other man only laugh even louder than before.

“And stop laughing, you harebrained dinosaur! I’m not in the mood to deal with you today. So, would you be so kind as to turn around and go back to wherever you’re coming from?”

Suddenly, the laughter died as it started, but the mad grin on the silver man’s face didn’t vanish.

“Grell. Sutcliff.”, he said in a suggestive whisper.

He seemed to taste the flavor of the redhead’s name in his mouth, and that made Grell shiver despite himself.

But he was just too much annoyed to admit it right away…

The Undertaker could be impossibly smexy at times, but he really, _really_ hated to be interrupted!

“You creepy geezer---” was all that Grell was able to reply, his chainsaw still menacingly roaring along his side, when, with a movement which was too fast even for the redhead’s reflexes standards, the Undertaker just appeared at a few inches from him and, before Grell could move a single muscle, he switched off the Dead Scythe with a now impossibly wide grin.

…as if he already knew what Grell had tried to hide a moment before with his bitter reply…

For a second, the Red Death asked himself if the Undertaker could _smell_ the emotions, given that he was as blind as a bat but that he always seemed to be able to understand what was around him before anybody else…

He snorted at his own thought; then he raised his chin up in the vain attempt to watch the Silver Death in the eye, but he only caught a glimpse of the end of the scar splitting the deserter’s face in half, peeping out from the long bangs, and, before he could notice, he had stopped breathing.

Mere seconds later – even if time, somehow, had slowed down since the moment the Undertaker got so near him – the old Shinigami bended over him and took a deep sniff behind Grell’s ear, skimming over him but avoiding touching him.

…he still was a gentleman, after all!

“You smell of blood and rain.”, he stated the obvious, his mad and maddening grin always there, as a reassuring constant in a way.

Grell wanted to give him a sharp reply, but – strangely enough – he found himself unable to find the right retort to counter back.

“Lucky the greenhorn had plans for tonight…”, the Undertaker went on after a long silent moment, his grin slowly growing in smugness. “Don’t you think so too, my rose?”, he implied.

“I’m not-----yours”, Grell concluded after a shrieking whine when he abruptly found himself stuck to the silver Shinigami, a strong arm firmly wrapped around his torso holding him. Then, the instant later, they were on the same rooftop he had previously chosen while waiting for the hour of his last collection for the day.

A few seconds later, he heard voices coming from beneath.

The Undertaker’s grin grew wider when, releasing Grell from his grip but not taking a step back, he raised a hand in order to move away his own bangs from his eyes.

...his secret weapon...

Then he glued his gaze with the redhead’s and slightly cocked his head on a side.

“Then, would you like to become finally mine?”, he offered, and Grell surrendered at last and burst out laughing.

“Are you sure that you’ll be able to handle my needs, old man? Also, you interrupted my breather, earlier, so now I have a lot of pent-up tension which needs release… I won’t consider myself responsible if tomorrow morning you won’t be able to open your shop…”, he suggested with a smug grin and lustful and flirtatious eyes, and the Undertaker only took his chin in his right hand and descended over him for collecting a kiss.

“Want to bet?”, he finally asked with a knowing smirk in front of the mess he made of the Red Death with just a 'tongue play'.

“Gladly! But let’s move from here… I hate the rain…”

**Author's Note:**

> I initially wrote it in italian; then I decided to translate it, and it slightly changed.  
> Then, given that it seems that when I try to write or translate in english, for some reason I noticed that it gets better, I removed the italian version and left just the english one...  
> Ah, misteries of life! XD  
> ...but I couldn't refrain myself from re-translate it back in italian... so, now, I'm going to post the story in italian as translation of that version... LOL
> 
> By the way, I hope you liked that story... it's a lot gorier than what I usually write, but it came out like that... and I had particularly fun while writing it!  
> Please, leave a comment if you have a moment... or just a kudos if you liked this story :)


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